


My Feet Don't Touch the Ground

by Dresupi



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Banter, Bed & Breakfast, Canon Era, Canon Universe, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dirty Thoughts, Established Relationship, F/M, Ficlet Collection, First Dates, First Meetings, Flirting, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Holding Hands, Long-Distance Relationship, Meet-Cute, Modern Era, Morning After, Not Canon Compliant, One Shot Collection, Oral Sex, Poker, Random & Short, Sandor's Dirty Mouth, Short & Sweet, Skype, Smut, Snowed In, Werewolf Sansa Stark, Whiskey & Scotch, flannel, prompt collection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-25 09:34:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 8,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22493890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dresupi/pseuds/Dresupi
Summary: A collection of SanSan short fics I've been prompted. Various ratings and subject matter.None of the ficlets are connected unless otherwise noted.The first chapter is the table of contents.I will mark mature/explicit shorts with an *.These are all Modern AU unless otherwise noted.
Relationships: Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark
Comments: 66
Kudos: 119
Collections: Dresupi's Ficlet Collections





	1. Table of Contents

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Meilan_Firaga](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meilan_Firaga/gifts), [AdultOrphan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdultOrphan/gifts), [MissLilyaWhite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissLilyaWhite/gifts), [SuchaHag](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuchaHag/gifts), [Sassak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sassak/gifts), [SwedishFanFictionLover](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwedishFanFictionLover/gifts), [XxPixaxX](https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxPixaxX/gifts), [ibelieveinturtles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ibelieveinturtles/gifts), [Ldybug521](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ldybug521/gifts), [Semperlitluv](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semperlitluv/gifts).



> Title is from 'What Kind Of Man' by Florence + the Machine.

  1. Table of Contents
  2. 'Secretly holding hands while standing beside each other at a bonfire' || for Meilan_Firaga
  3. My scarf’s stuck in the door of my apartment building and I can’t reach the keypad to unlock the door to the lobby, can you help me out, neighbor-I’ve-never-spoken-to-before? (Part I of III) || for AdultOrphan
  4. It’s my lucky hoodie, I’ll tell you why if you buy me a drink (Part II of III) || for AdultOrphan
  5. Whiskey makes everything better (Part III of III) || for AdultOrphan
  6. I love a good grandpa-sweater; You’ll pry this sweater out of my cold, dead hands. I don’t care how ugly it is. || for MissLilyaWhite
  7. *Putting flannel sheets on the bed so you feel like a lumberjack || for Suchahag
  8. Getting stuck at the top of the Ferris Wheel || for Sassak
  9. 'I run a bed & breakfast and you showed up for your reservation alone. Do you understand what the purpose of a b&b is?' and 'When they wear THAT flannel shirt' || for MissLilyaWhite and SwedishFanFictionLover
  10. Going hiking on for a first date || for XxPixaxX
  11. When they wear YOUR flannel shirt || for SwedishFanFictionLover
  12. My ice scraper broke months ago, and I didn’t think about needing another one, but now the first frost is upon us and my windshield is frosted over, can you help? || for ibelieveinturtles
  13. Visiting family who doesn’t know they’re dating, Fake Friends Trope || for ibelieveinturtles and reptilianrenegade
  14. Snowed in and stir-crazy || for Ldybug521
  15. *'Can you feel what you're doing to me?' || for Anon
  16. 'I wouldn't change a thing about you' || for ibelieveinturtles
  17. Don't be scared, I can explain || for Semperlitluv
  18. Getting warm together || for Anonymous




	2. 'Secretly holding hands while standing beside each other at a bonfire' || for Meilan_Firaga

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Autumn Prompts
> 
> Banter, Flirting, Holding Hands

Sansa sidled up beside him. The heat coming off his body was actually a lot warmer than the heat coming off the fire at this distance. Of course, Sandor was standing so far removed from both the bonfire and the people frolicking around it, this fact came as no surprise.

“Thought you’d be up there with your sister. With your friends,” he chuckled gruffly.

“Thought so, too,” she replied. “But it looks like you want to be back here in the dark and the cold.”

His chuckle turned dry until it was really more of a nervous throat-clearing sound than anything else. Sandor turned his head, looking down at her. It filled her belly with butterflies. With scampering mice. With something that just couldn’t keep still.

He was tall, and for Sansa, that was saying something. Finding herself a man who could tower over her had been a deep desire since she’d had her growth spurt at age twelve.

“I don’t care for fires. For frivolity involving it or much else. The fact that we need them to keep warm in the north is a bit of contention for me. Don’t think I could ever be happy here.”

“Never?” she asked incredulously, her hand darting out from beneath her cloak to slip slowly into his. It was cold and rough, but his thumb moved softly over the back of her hand. So soft it almost tickled.

He cleared his throat once more. “Nope. Never.”

But he didn’t remove his hand from hers, so she thought that the point might be up for debate in the near future. In the meantime, she’d see to it that he’d never have to deal with the fireplace in his quarters.

Perhaps she’d see to it herself.


	3. My scarf’s stuck in the door of my apartment building and I can’t reach the keypad to unlock the door to the lobby, can you help me out, neighbor-I’ve-never-spoken-to-before? (Part I of III) || for AdultOrphan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Autumn Prompts
> 
> Meet-Cute

Sandor checked the weather app on his phone six times that morning just to be sure there wasn’t any rain coming his way. According to every single forecast he’d seen, the rain wasn’t supposed to happen for another couple of days now. There were strong wind gusts, but no rain.

So he took his scarf from its hook and wound it around his neck and headed downstairs to the lobby of the building. He checked that he had everything with him that he’d need, there wouldn’t be time to come back to the apartment until early tomorrow morning if his newest client had anything to say about it.

A glorified rent-a-cop, Tyrion called it. Sandor called it paying the bills, and his clients called him a bodyguard. Whichever it was, it paid the bills and kept him in this posh building. A posh building with a keypad to get into the lobby.

As he stepped out the door, reaching for his phone again to double-check where he was meeting up with his client, a gust of wind blasted him in the face and his scarf flew straight back, just as the lobby door clicked shut. And locked.

With his blasted scarf stuck on both ends.

He coughed as he skidded to a halt, the scarf tightening around his neck as he struggled to turn and punch in the security code to unlock the door and free himself.

Except he couldn’t really turn that way without damn near strangling himself.

“Fuck… ” he grumbled, reaching up to untangle the scarf from his neck, only to discover that there was no way to loosen it without it pressing just a little too hard on his windpipe.

“Fuck…” he repeated, exhaling deeply and trying to think fast. Maybe he could grab his knife from his ankle holster and cut through the thing. One attempt at kneeling later and Sandor had tossed that theory out the window.

And as luck would have it, a couple of raindrops began to splatter against his forehead.

“Fucking shit…” he groused, pulling his bag up to cover his head and giving up two seconds later because in no universe did Sandor Clegane care if his hair got wet.

“Need some help?”

He glanced down to the sidewalk, eyes widening as he recognized the woman standing in front of him.

Well, he didn’t know her name, but he knew of her.

Long red hair and designer clothes. A soft smile and an even softer voice.

Legs for days.

She lived somewhere in the building; he always saw her at the mailboxes.

“I could use some, yeah…” he replied gruffly.

She stepped up on the stoop and reached across him, an awkward maneuver given the position he was in, stuck so close to the door itself.

He couldn’t help it, he caught a whiff of her hair. Something lemony, but not in the way that implied a household cleaner, more in the way that implied a cake or something. It was amplified with the scent of the rain in the air, filling the space around them both.

She placed one hand on his arm to steady herself and reached around him, punching in the code and pulling the door open. He stepped forward, brushing her shoulder as he removed himself from the door.

“Thank you…” he paused because, for the life of him, he didn’t know her name.

“Sansa. Stark,” she replied. The name fit her. And he recognized the Stark name, but from what he knew, they didn’t live around King’s Landing. He supposed you learned a little something every day. “And I have to confess I already know your last name…”

“You do?” he mused, reaching up to unwind the scarf.

“I saw it on your mailbox,” she confessed, blushing a little.

“Well, thank you, Sansa Stark,” he said, turning to leave as he went down the steps.

“Mr. Clegane,” she countered.

He turned to face her, sorry he had to leave in such a hurry because if he’d known she was interested in the slightest, he’d have invited her out for coffee or something. Even if he couldn’t find his way around a coffee shop menu to save his life.”

“Sandor,” he corrected her. “I’ll see you later?”

“Hope so,” she replied, smiling a little and making him feel like calling in sick and making one of his colleagues follow the little rich boy around and be his bodyguard.

But Sandor was nothing if not a professional, so he simply dipped his head and turned to leave.


	4. It’s my lucky hoodie, I’ll tell you why if you buy me a drink (Part II of III) || for AdultOrphan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Autumn Prompts 2019
> 
> First Date

The date, if one could call it as such, took approximately two weeks to come to fruition. Not that Sansa was officially keeping track, except she definitely was. _Unofficially_.  
  
She and Sandor had spoken a handful of times since she’d helped him free his scarf from the lobby door, but considering that they’d spoken _no_ times before that, it was a distinct improvement.  
  
There was even a little flirtation. A little back-and-forth. Snarky banter, if you will.  
  
The date seemed imminent if only one of them could work up the courage to broach the topic.  
  
She’d been on board with asking him herself. Sandor Clegane, while a little rough around the edges, was well fit, and Sansa didn’t mind admitting that she’d noticed. But when she spotted him at the mailboxes one morning, she opened her mouth to speak to him, and would have done just that, except he was already doing it. Already greeting her, so she had to stumble over the words she’d been planning and wing it completely.  
  
“Sansa, how’ve you been?” he asked her very nearly the second she approached her box, thus throwing her off her plans entirely.  
  
“I’m… well,” she managed, smiling in what she hoped was an un-goofy manner, despite the state of her reply.  
  
“Glad to hear it,” he replied, clearing his throat as he reached into his own mailbox and pulled out several envelopes and a small package. He locked the box once more and stood back, lingering.  
  
Sansa hurriedly pulled her own mail from the box. Unfortunately, her Vogue magazine was rolled up inside and took some finagling to work it free. By the time she got it out, she was certain Sandor would have already gone. But she turned around and was delighted to see that he hadn’t.  
  
“So, um. I was just… wondering,” he began.  
  
“Yes?” she asked eagerly, her affirmation tingling on the tip of her tongue before he’d even asked her.  
  
“If you’d fancy a drink sometime--some night--this Saturday?” he asked. Apparently, Sandor’s comfort zone was centralized in vague, but he was fighting to be specific in this instance. The specificity made it special.  
  
Sansa beamed for a moment before answering. “I’d love to, have you a place in mind or--”  
  
“There’s this little pub down the street a’ways. We could go there. If you’d like.”  
  
“I know the place, they do a lovely pint on the weekends. On the weeknights too, I’d wager, but I’ve only been on the weekends.”  
  
“Perfect. It’s a casual place, innit?”  
  
“It is, yes…” Sansa said with a smirk as she thought about the last time she’d been there.  
  
“What?” Sandor asked, a grin creeping onto his face.  
  
“I’ll wear my lucky hoodie.”  
  
“What makes it lucky?” he asked, walking right into her joke.  
  
“Buy me a drink and I’ll tell you.”  
  
He chuckled. “I’d wager it gets you free drinks. Although, a pretty one like you don’t need luck, does she?”  
  
Sansa smiled warmly. “Pretty ones need more luck than you’d realize.”  
  
“You can tell me all about it on Saturday.”  
  
“Too right,” she chirped, shifting her mail to the other arm. “Saturday at eight? I’ll meet you down here.”  
  
“Wouldn’t miss it for anything.”  
  



	5. Whiskey makes everything better (Part III of III) || for AdultOrphan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Autumn Prompts 2019
> 
> Whiskey, Alcohol, Dates

She was late.

Sansa couldn’t believe it. She’d been looking forward to this for the entire week. She’d made reminders and alarms, and none of that seemed to matter to her boss, who kept her late _because_ she had plans.

Well, it wasn’t technically _because_ of her plans, but it certainly seemed that way. And she wouldn’t put it past him.

He was right asshole, Mr. Baelish was. There wasn’t a single thing on her itinerary after lunch that Saturday. She was even planning on leaving a bit early to ensure she would have enough time to run home and change before meeting Sandor at the pub.

But he’d casually asked about her plans before she left to pick up his lunch order, and so, being the social and polite creature she was, she shared her excitement about dating a man in her building. Lo and behold, when she returned, her itinerary was full to the brim. To the point where she was twenty minutes late leaving the office, faking a smile and a wave to Mr. Baelish when she really wanted to flip up her middle finger and glare at him.

She didn’t think to get Sandor’s phone number, so she had no way to let him know, she could only pray to the seven that he would still be there in the pub waiting for her.

Sansa burst into the door, causing a stir with the patrons at the front, but none of their sarcastic remarks met her ears because she was too busy scanning the room to find Sandor. Thankfully, he was still there, seated at a table in the back.

She bustled through the crowd and slid into the seat across from him.

He opened his mouth to speak, but she beat him to the punch. “I’m so sorry I’m late. My boss is… insane, he had an uncharacteristically large amount of work for me…”

Sandor checked his watch. “You were barely late.”

She laughed and shook her head. “I meant to be on time. I was looking forward to meeting you, it’s practically all I thought about…” She allowed her bag to slide from her shoulder and pool beside her in the booth. “I had a whole other outfit picked out, I didn’t want to wear my work clothes here…”

“You look…” He trailed off, his hand gesturing vaguely. “You look the same as you always do.”

“Which is…” she fished, grinning.

He smirked. “Gorgeous. But you know that.”

She shrugged. “Still nice to hear someone else agree with me.”

They were both quiet for a long moment. Sansa broke the silence. “I truly did wish to be here earlier… I’m sorry I wasted your time…”

“Waiting on you is never a waste. But if you’re that torn up about it, we could stay twenty minutes longer than we planned.”

“When were you planning on leaving?” she asked.

“Depends. You have to work with that asshole again tomorrow?”

“No, I’m off tomorrow.”

“Still. It’s up to you.”

She took her bottom lip between her teeth and tried to calm her rapidly beating heart. “If it’s up to me, I could use a drink.”

“I’ll go order it. You want a pint or…”

Whiskey made everything better. And seeing as this was already going swimmingly well…

“Whiskey. Two fingers. On the rocks.”

He chuckled. “A woman after my own heart.”

“You have no idea,” she replied, liking what his face did when she said something he didn’t expect.

She’d have to keep him on his toes. It was too fun not to.


	6. I love a good grandpa-sweater; You’ll pry this sweater out of my cold, dead hands. I don’t care how ugly it is. || for MissLilyaWhite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Autumn Prompts 2019
> 
> Established Relationship, Banter

Sansa held out her phone, adjusting the angle until she could be somewhat pleased with the result on her screen. The work it took to make it appear as if she were having some footloose and fancy-free Saturday, and not waiting impatiently for her boyfriend to get dressed so they could go out for dinner.

When Sandor emerged from the shower, he smelt of his shampoo. Something musky with a touch of sandalwood. Nothing he’d ever buy for himself, obviously, but he allowed her to buy it for him, and that, in and of itself was sexy. To Sansa at least.

He was clean, but he was wearing that jumper.

The grey one with a fraying hole in the side seam.

“That’s what you’re wearing, then?” Sansa asked as he sat down beside her.

Sandor smirked. “Yep, it does appear that way. Does my lady object?”

“Oh no. I love a good grandpa jumper,” she assured him. Facetiously.

“Are we going somewhere with a dress code or something?” he asked.

“No. Just for fish and chips, as per your request,” she replied.

“Then I guess I can wear what I bloody well please then, can’t I?”

Sansa smirked and reached for the neck of his jumper, tugging him closer for a kiss. One that started out as a peck and ended somewhere well past that.

His eyes were dark when she finally released him. “I just thought perhaps you’d like to look like a patron of the chip shop and not as if you provided the catch of the day.”

Sandor kissed her once more. “You’ll pry this jumper out of my cold dead hands. I don’t care how ugly it is.”

“It’s not ugly on you,” she countered. “Although you do look like a fisherman. Now smile,” she held out her phone and leaned closer to him to snap another selfie. “Say cheese.”


	7. *Putting flannel sheets on the bed so you feel like a lumberjack || for Suchahag

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Autumn Prompts 2019
> 
> Smut, Friends with Benefits, Oral Sex, Dirty Thoughts, Sandor's Dirty Mouth

Sandor bought the sheets because he was a fucking adult, not because he was trying to impress _her_. If he was trying to impress Sansa Stark, he wouldn’t have done it with flannel. He’d have squandered an entire paycheck and gone with silk or satin.

But as it was, he was walking through the Abodes Abundance & Afar nearest his apartment, trying his damnedest not to alert one of the salespeople to his utter and complete confusion when it came to fine home furnishings.

Or even just… furnishings.

He found a display full of flannel sheets and labored over the decision of pattern only briefly. Tartan was tartan. They were going to be slept in and more than likely fucked in, there was no reason to debate on anything other than making certain he had the right size for his mattress.

Sandor bought two sets. And a few pillows as well. Only because they were nearby and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d replaced his.

He paid at the front, glaring at the bubbly cashier as he tried to convince him to join their rewards program.

“What’s the total?” Sandor asked, ignoring the litany of questions the cashier had begun to lob at him.

“Do you have our rewards card?” the cashier repeated, blinking twice and causing Sandor to wonder whether or not he was an android of some kind. Or slightly touched. But he supposed someone would have to be to work in retail.

“No. And I don’t want--”

“Would you like to sign up today and save fifteen percent on future purchases?”

“No,” he said.

“Are you sure? Most customers say they save upwards of--”

“I said no. What’s the total?” he practically growled, causing the cashier to jolt slightly and tap the screen to move on to the payment.

He paid, took his bags and left the godsforsaken store. He still had a few hours until Sansa arrived, but he’d like to have these washed and dried before she got there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He’d just finished making the bed when she knocked on the door. He kicked the laundry basket with the other sheets into his closet, closing the door and performing one last-minute check of the studio apartment before letting her in.

All telltale bags and receipts from Abodes Abundance & Afar had been hidden away under his sink or tucked into his wallet.

There was no way she could tell he’d gone shopping. Which was how Sandor wanted it. He didn’t want her making a big fuss over him making the smallest possible effort to make her comfortable enough to spread her legs at his place instead of inviting him over to hers.

He always felt like he was going to break something or smudge something up when he was over there, anyway. If they were going to be doing this with any kind of frequency, she’d need to come here at least some of the time.

And what had begun as just a one-time-thing had escalated into an every-weekend-thing. So changes were in order. For him, at least. He wasn’t usually the type to go crawling around after some woman, but Sansa was something else, he knew that from the first time he kissed her. He’d crawl over broken glass, hot coals, and yes--through a home-furnishings store if his final destination was between her legs.

Upon opening the door, Sansa launched herself at him, wrapping both arms around his neck and pressing her lips firmly to his. A display like that might have given him pause in the past, but he was used to it with Sansa. Their arrangement was purely for fucking, so this was all it took for his cock to jump to attention, ready for her.

She bit down on his bottom lip to the point where he had to pull away or he’d take her there against the door and traumatize any neighbor unlucky enough to be walking through the breezeway.

“You get here alright?” he asked, reaching up to run his fingers over his mouth and make sure she hadn’t drawn blood. Not that he cared much one way or the other, but it was nice to know if he was bleeding or not.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” she retorted, shrugging off her coat and tossing it over one of his dining chairs. She left her purse on the table and ventured over to his bed, where she sat down, promptly falling back and gazing up at the ceiling. Her arms were splayed to either side, one towards the bottom of the bed, the other under a pillow. She turned towards that one, tugging his blanket down and exposing the new, freshly laundered sheets.

“These are new,” she stated in a matter-of-fact tone that he fucking _hated_. She turned towards him, smirking. “You bought new sheets? For _me_?”

“Bought nothing for _you_ ,” he said with a sneer. “Bought those for me. I’m the one sleeping on ‘em.”

But she was already rising to her feet, crossing the floor to where he was still standing. She kissed him again, and he fought to keep her there, to keep her from talking and saying more, but it never seemed to work with Sansa. She called all the shots and he was just along for the ride. And fuck if he didn’t love every second.

“You bought new sheets because you knew yours were gross and old. You bought them because of me. Flannel ones, too. I’ll bet you feel like a lumberjack laying in these, huh? I’ve always wanted to blow a lumberjack...”

“So go blow one, then. And I didn’t do shit for you,” he hissed, walking back over to the bed and bending down to right the blanket, hide them from view. He could feel his traitorous face blushing from the neck up, and he _despised_ that she was right. That she saw through the ruse right away and was making a big deal about it.

“You did, though.” She sounded all moony-eyed and lovestruck. He wanted her breathless and moaning.

“I didn’t either,” he argued. “I bought them because--” He’d been about to tell her exactly why he’d bought them. That if he’d been looking to impress her, he knew better than to try with something like flannel. Except he couldn’t. Because she was kissing him to shut him up.

He didn’t _not_ like that.

She kissed him like he was air and she was suffocating. He felt his knees hit the mattress and he sat down, wrapping his arms around her waist while she tugged her shirt off and over her head. She was wearing that black lacy bra he liked. The one he didn’t even have to take off in order to see her tits through the lace.

Sansa knelt down between his knees, reaching for his belt. Her breasts bounced with the motion.

“You don’t wanna try them out?” he asked. She had his belt and the top button on his trousers undone. The zipper was next.

“I will. I just wanted to do this first… been thinking about it all day…”

“I won’t stop ya, then…” Sandor replied, lifting his hips so she could yank down his trousers and pants.

Her lips around his cock were burning hot. He couldn’t think of much else when she took him in her mouth. Let alone stopping her for anything.

Sandor kept his hand in her hair and kept his eyes shut tight because imagining what she looked like was enough to get him good and excited. If he opened his eyes and watched her tease his cock with her lips and tongue, this would be over before it even started.

She made soft sounds in the back of her throat. Like she was enjoying this as much as he was. Like she wasn’t driving him crazy.

Saliva dripped down his shaft as she bobbed her head in his lap, and he couldn’t help how his fingers tightened a little in her hair, not enough to hold her where she didn’t want to be, just because he had to hold on to something or he’d…

“Stop… stop…” he rasped, his eyes opening as she released him, gazing questioningly up at him with swollen lips.

He let go of her hair and coaxed her back to her feet. He tugged at the zipper on her jeans, and she helped him shuck those and her knickers away to the floor before he stood and gently pushed her down onto the bed. She giggled and grabbed for the blanket, pulling it down and diving beneath it.

Sandor followed, pinning one of her legs to the side and hooking the other over his shoulder as he sank into her.

He wasn’t really noticing much about the feel of the sheets beneath him, but fuck if they didn’t make Sansa look spectacular. Her red hair spread out in a fan around her head, her lips parted slightly as he drove into her slick pussy over and over again. The grey and black tartan pattern brought out both the fire in her hair and the creaminess of her skin. It’d have taken his breath away if he already wasn’t completely breathless from the feel of her clamping down around him.

The purchase was completely warranted, in his opinion. If only for how Sansa looked pressed against his bed while he was fucking her. It was the only selling point he’d consider from now on.


	8. Getting stuck at the top of the Ferris Wheel || for Sassak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Autumn Prompts 2019
> 
> Banter, Established Relationship

“C’mon,” Sandor pulled Sansa’s hand, lacing their fingers in the process. He tugged her across the straw strewn walkway, their shoes squishing in the mud underneath as he approached the Ferris Wheel.

“You want to ride this?” Sansa asked, gazing up at the ride.

“You wanted a romantic evening, I’m attempting to give that to you.”

“Since when?” she laughed. “I half expected you to pull me between this and the Gravitron over here and have me against that wall.”

“Which wall?” he asked, peering around where she was pointing.

“This corrugated steel-looking wall here.”

He wrinkled his nose. “That’d be hell on your back. Or mine, depending on what position. Nah. I wanted to get on this with you. Maybe bribe the guy to get us stuck at the top or something.”

Sansa’s eyebrows went up. “You’re serious? You don’t want a handjob on top of the world?”

“Never thought about it, are you offering?”

She laughed and shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe.”

Sandor watched her eyes twinkle with the Midway lights and he ducked down to kiss her lips.

“Is that a yes? You want a handjob at a couple of hundred feet?”

He shook his head. “Nah. I wanna sit up there with you. Kiss you maybe. And then fuck you in the car when we get to the parking lot.”

“Deal,” she said, reaching for his hand and shaking it. “To do any of that, we’d better get in line.”

“Nah, I know the guy.” Sandor smirked at the guy operating the ride. “C’mon, let’s go.”

“This the same guy you’re bribing to get us stuck at the top?” she asked.

“He only wants the bribe to get us stuck. He’ll let us on no problem.”

“If you say so, Sandor…”

He tugged her close enough to plant a kiss on her insolent mouth. “I do say so.”


	9. 'I run a bed & breakfast and you showed up for your reservation alone. Do you understand what the purpose of a b&b is?' and 'When they wear THAT flannel shirt' || for MissLilyaWhite and SwedishFanFictionLover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Autumn Prompts 2019
> 
> Bed & Breakfast, First Meetings

Sansa was used to the tall, dark, and handsome types walking through the front door. It was just that they usually had a pretty little something hanging off their arm, or leading them, laden down with too much luggage for just a weekend away. 

This one was alone. He registered alone, he arrived alone, and when she asked if he’d need a second key for his guest, he informed her there wasn’t one. 

So he was actually _alone_. 

It was interesting. But more than that, it stirred something within her that hadn’t been stirred in a long, long while. 

That something was undoubtedly helped along by the flannel shirt Sandor Clegane had covering up his absolutely massive (and by massive, she meant he was well fit, not any other meaning inherent to the word) chest. His shoulder to waist ratio was pure insanity of the best kind. 

And he wasn’t attached to anyone. 

He was spending the weekend in a romantic bed & breakfast alone, though. So Sansa supposed that was one check on his weird column. Not a big check, though. 

“You can go ahead and ask me,” he said with a smirk. “I can tell you want to.” 

He was expecting her to ask what in the seven hells he was doing on a couples weekend when he was by himself, that’s what Mr. Clegane thought she’d ask. And Sansa couldn’t blame him for assuming. By all appearances, she looked to be the meek front-desk clerk of a northern B&B, so what came out of her mouth next succeeded in raising his eyebrows. 

“I was wondering if--since you seem to have no one to share your bed--you’d object to one more in your room tonight.” 

He blinked, let out a gasp of air as his pupils went dark. “Don’t recall that being on the amenities list.” 

“You don’t object?” 

“We don’t know each other…” He sounded like he was mostly talking to himself. Talking himself out of it, she’d wager. 

“I know your name, Sandor…” she replied with a wink, tapping the guestbook. “I’ll tell you mine in the morning.” 

“Why in the morning?” he asked, grinning crookedly as he watched her primly stack a pile of forms and encase them in a folder. 

“So you can thank me properly,” she replied, winking. “I’ll see you this evening, around… eightish?” 

He nodded and shouldered his overnight bag, turning to go up the stairs. 

Sansa felt a thrill fly through her veins, settling in the pit of her stomach. She’d never been one for brazen overtures, but she thought she could possibly grow to like them if they all ended up like this. 


	10. Going hiking on for a first date || for XxPixaxX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Autumn Prompts 2019
> 
> Hiking, First Dates

He wouldn’t have picked this. Not for a first date. Not for a second. Not for any date, because walking in the woods just wasn’t something Sandor did unless it was absolutely necessary. Walking in the woods when it was anywhere near cool enough to require a jacket wasn’t something he _ever_ did. Ever. Even if it was necessary. 

But he liked Sansa. 

Scratch that, he adored her. So when she’d suggested this for their first official date, Sandor nodded his head. She could have suggested getting matching arse tattoos and he’d have nodded as well. 

Hell, he was doing _this_ for her. As far as he was concerned, he was already hers, they didn’t need to go through this courtship ritual so many others had. She’d had him seven ways to odds, so there was no question in his mind about what they were to each other. 

But this was important to Sansa. This ritual they’d already bypassed. If she had to go back and touch on all the important bits again, he’d do that for her. 

She tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and dragged him down that trail, ooing at the leaves and ahhing at a family of raccoons scurrying through the thicket. Never mind that they were likely on their way to rummage through someone’s garbage bins, Sansa seemed to possess the ability to put the rational, snarky, portion of her brain to rest as they walked through the arches of dying trees, amid orange and red leaves that fluttered intermittently around them. 

Her hand slid down his arm and laced with his fingers, she jumped a little and glanced up at him. “You’re cold.” 

“No shit,” he replied. “It’s cold out here.” 

“You could have said something,” she chastised, encasing his large and very cold hand with her two slender and somehow, warm hands. “Or worn gloves.” 

“And miss this?” he raised his hand, with hers clasped around it. “That’ll be a cold day in Dorne.” 

Sansa leaned against his arm, resting her cheek there for a moment. “Let’s go inside.” 

“I could stay out for a little longer.” 

“But we can’t warm you up properly outside,” she teased. “It’d be _obscene_.” 

He turned abruptly, walking them back the way they’d come. In the interest of avoiding obscenity. And avoiding freezing his bollocks off.” 


	11. When they wear YOUR flannel shirt || for SwedishFanFictionLover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Autumn Prompts 2019
> 
> Morning After, Flannel

Sandor woke up and stretched out his arm to find an empty spot beside him. A warm, but bare spot that told him Sansa couldn’t have been gone for long. 

If the smoky scent of bacon was any indication, he’d find his two favorite things waiting in the kitchen. 

Rolling out of bed, he reached for where he’d slung his shirt the night before, not finding it and frankly, not caring as he stretched and made his way out to the kitchen. 

He leaned against the doorframe to take in the sight. 

His nose had been absolutely right when it came to recognizing bacon in his near future, but nothing could have prepared him for the lovely sight that was Sansa in his flannel shirt. Barefoot. Cooking his breakfast. 

“Shit…” she muttered, scraping at the pan with the tongs as the smell went from smoky and bacony to burnt in seconds. 

“I’ll do that,” Sandor offered, sliding in beside her to take over. “You can handle coffee, can’t ya?” 

She sent him a simpering look. “Can I handle coffee?” 

“It’s a real question, princess…” he replied with a smirk and watched over his shoulder as she reached for the coffee tin on top of the fridge. His shirt was barely long enough to cover her arse, so he got a good look before she found what she was looking for. 

“Sorry about the bacon,” she said, running the water for the coffee. 

“Worth it,” he countered. 


	12. My ice scraper broke months ago, and I didn’t think about needing another one, but now the first frost is upon us and my windshield is frosted over, can you help? || for ibelieveinturtles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Autumn Prompts 2019
> 
> Banter, Flirting

Sandor sighed when he walked out to the parking lot. Of course, his fucking car would be frosted over. It always was when he had to pull his third-shifts up North, but he hadn’t had to be up here in a while now. Plus, he’d broken his ice scraper sometime around week fourteen in the capital and hadn’t thought to buy a new one. Because why would he? 

And then his cunt of a boss had sent him up north to play night security there until they got the damn shift trained again. Which left him where he currently was. 

Bone tired. 

Freezing his bollocks off. 

And now having to wait for his damn car to defrost so he could see enough to drive home. 

“Shit,” he grunted, reaching for the door and having to pull it a couple of times because the fucker had frozen shut. 

“Need some help?” 

He looked up to see Ned Stark’s daughter standing there. Wearing her white fur coat and her black turtle neck and boots that probably cost more than what they paid him in a week. Asking him if he needed help. Sansa was her name. 

“What gave ya that impression?” he drawled, cocking an eyebrow at her. 

“Your ice block of a car and the string of obscenities you’re letting loose. Mostly,” she replied with a shrug. 

“ _Can_ you help? You northerners breathe fire or something?” 

Sansa chuckled and shook her head. “No, but we carry these.” She pulled an ice scraper out of her purse and held it out towards him. “Extras, in fact. You can keep that. A gift from me to you. I’m Sansa by the way.” 

Sandor wasn’t about to let on that he already knew her name, so he just nodded. “Sandor Clegane.” He snorted and took the thing from her hand. “I don’t normally like cheap bits of plastic, but this one saved me a good twenty minutes, so thank you.” 

“You’re replacing the night watchman? Figured you could probably use any time you possibly could after working all night.” 

“I’m only the temporary replacement,” he corrected her, scraping the ice from his front windshield. “They’re hiring someone else, and I’m leaving this frozen pit for a warmer pit in the south.” 

“Ah, bummer,” she said with a laugh. “I might have asked you out to dinner sometime. Or breakfast… if that’s how you do things…” 

He didn’t know why he was entertaining this. She was probably just yanking his chain, but he was in a right better mood than he had been five minutes ago. “You could try, maybe I’d say yes.” 

“There’s a pancake house that serves the best waffles. We should go.” 

“Their pancakes aren’t good?” 

“Oh, they’re good. But the waffles are surprising since it’s a pancake house, you know.” 

“Surprising, huh?” He moved to the driver’s side. “I like surprises.” 

Surprises seemed to be the soup of the day, and Sandor wasn’t about to turn down another one. 


	13. Visiting family who doesn’t know they’re dating, Fake Friends Trope || for ibelieveinturtles and reptilianrenegade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter Prompts 2019/2020
> 
> Established Relationship

Sansa was fiddling with the steering wheel cover, her phone pressed to her ear as her mother talked and talked and talked, seemingly oblivious to the half-dozen times her daughter had reminded her that she was driving. That she was on the northern roads. That she needed all of her attention. 

“Mom… I’m driving.” 

“Oh, Sansa, pull over, you shouldn’t be driving and chatting at the same time,” Catelyn urged. 

Sansa pressed her lips together and put on her turn signal, followed by her caution lights as she slowly rolled to a stop on the shoulder. 

Sandor frowned, giving her a quizzical look, to which she shrugged in reply, miming with her hand as Catelyn continued to talk her ear off about all the planning she’d done for the holiday. All the deer her father had hunted and would her friend be joining him on his hunt that weekend? 

“Will Sandor be joining Dad for his hunt? I would assume so, yes?” she replied, only realizing afterward that her ‘friend’ was shaking his head vigorously. 

Grimacing, she mouthed the word ‘sorry’ and tried to fix her blunder. “I mean to say, that yes, Dad should ask him when we get there… he’s sleeping right now and I don’t wish to wake him.” 

“I have the guest room made up for him,” Mom continued. “Well, one of them. Meera’s coming to stay with Bran as well, so she’s got the other one.” 

“Where’s Marg sleeping?” 

“With Robb of course, Sans. I’m not completely archaic. Bran’s still in school, though. And I wouldn’t like Meera’s family thinking I’m running some sort of underage brothel in my home.” 

“I doubt anyone would think that, Mom…” Sansa tapped her fingers on the steering wheel and decided to try again. “But you know, Sandor can share my room.” 

“Nonsense! We have space, there’s no need for him to sleep on your floor. Now, for dinner tonight, I have two whole legs of venison, because Arya’s bringing Gendry and I just _know_ those men will eat me out of house and home if I let them. What time will you be here? Can you make buns?” 

Sansa sighed once more. Thwarted again. She honestly wasn’t sure if her mother was truly in the dark about Sansa and Sandor’s relationship, or if she was just in denial, but it was becoming ridiculous. 

“I’ll start the dough when we get there in about an hour. If you let me off the phone so I can drive.” 

“Of course, of course… we’ll see you in an hour! I can’t wait!” 

Sansa ended the call and dropped the phone with a flourish into the center console. “I honestly think she doesn’t realize, Sandor.” 

“Nah, she knows. She’s in denial,” he chuckled. Sansa threw the car back into drive and pulled back onto the road. 

She sighed. “Whichever it is, I’m annoyed. I haven’t slept alone in almost a year, you know that? And that house is cold.” She poked out her bottom lip. “I’ll freeze.” 

“ _You’ll_ freeze? You’re from the north, your body will acclimate. Me? I’m gonna have to sneak into your room after everyone’s asleep and warm up your bed for you. You should probably bite down on a pillow. So as not wake them.” He laughed when Sansa swatted his shoulder. “Oi, keep your eyes on the road, Little Bird.” 

“Just for that, I should make you go hunting with Dad,” she countered. “Not that it’s much of a punishment. I wish _I_ could go hunting with Dad.” 

“You go in my place, then. No way am I allowing the father of the woman I’m shacking up with to take me out into the frozen countryside with naught but a gun to warm me.” 

She laughed. “If Mom doesn’t know we’re together, Dad doesn’t.” 

Sandor shot her an incredulous look. “You’re as barmy as she is if you believe that.” 

Sansa snorted out a laugh and reached for his hand to squeeze it. “We’ll tell them before we leave. If I have to get downright anatomical in my descriptions, I will.” 

“Please, gods… don’t let it come to that,” he replied. 


	14. Snowed in and stir-crazy || for Ldybug521

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter Prompts 2019/20
> 
> Snowed in, Established Relationship, Poker

“Okay, okay, okay… I understand the rules. Let’s play for real,” Sansa grinned up at him, and Sandor couldn’t really help but smile in return. 

“I really don’t think one practice hand’s gonna cut it, Little Bird…” he chuckled. 

“I’ll hit the ground running, promise,” she replied. “Let’s go. Five-card-stud. Twos are wild.” She shoved the deck of cards into his hand. 

“As the dealer, I would technically get to pick what’s wild,” he reminded her. 

“Whatever. Listen. Let’s make it interesting.” 

He shuffled the cards. “I’m listening.” 

“Every hand you lose, you give me a piece of clothing.” 

“You want to play strip poker?” he asked. “We really have been stuck inside for too long.” 

“What, I have to have cabin fever in order to want to see you naked?” she arched an eyebrow. “That’s funny, explain all the other times, in that case…” 

“No, nothing like that…” He cut the deck and shuffled again, holding it out to her so she could cut it. “It’s just… you’ve only played one practice hand. This feels a little weighed in my favor.” 

She grabbed the deck of cards from his hand and shuffled them herself, executing a perfect bridge before she started to deal. “Aces are low, smart-ass. Deuces are wild. And you’ve got to be the most gullible man in Westeros if you think I’ve never played poker before.” 

Sandor gulped and took his cards. “I should have known you were hustling me.” 

“Should have, but you didn’t.” Her smirk was nothing short of beautiful. Being hustled into strip poker by his beautiful girlfriend was the best way to spend a weekend snowed in. 


	15. *'Can you feel what you're doing to me?' || for Anon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dialogue Prompts 2019
> 
> Smut, Canon-Verse

The stones were rough against her back, scraping her shoulder blades through her gown, but none of them felt as hard or as solid as what was currently cradled between her spread thighs.

Nothing about Clegane was soft. Not a single, solitary part of him. Not the wall of muscle that remained hidden under his tunic. Not either of his arms, hands currently gripping the swell of her ass and holding her tightly to his front.

Not his kisses, rough and brazen, as his mouth moved over hers, teeth catching her bottom lip every so often.

She rocked her hips against his, feeling his erection drag where she most wanted it, the friction delicious, even as he tore his mouth from hers, looking down as he supported her weight with one hand, used the other to ruck up her skirts.

“Do you feel what you’re doing to me,” he growled.

She raised her eyebrows. “No. Tell me. What am I doing to you?”

“I could have any woman my coin could buy. Could have them… wet and naked right now. Instead, I’m rutting against you with my clothes on, having to keep quiet like some boy, poking around where he shouldn’t…”

He finished pulling up her skirt, his hand reaching under and finding her, hot, wet and breathless, without small clothes to impede his progress. He let out a ragged moan as his fingers slid through her folds, unimpeded as she practically melted under his touch.

She ran her fingers through his tangled hair and felt him jolt when she bit down on his earlobe. Releasing it, she soothed the spot with her tongue before whispering. “Naked I may not be, but you cannot argue that you’ve not soaked me through and through.”


	16. 'I wouldn't change a thing about you' || for ibelieveinturtles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dialogue Prompts 2019
> 
> Canon-verse, Everyone lives nobody dies, Canon divergent

“Bah…” Sandor wrinkled his nose and batted her hand away. “Surely you’d like a more stately fellow to accompany you to King’s Landing. Someone who wouldn’t embarrass you at lengthy meals by drinking his weight and falling asleep in your lap.”

“You are aware I was wedded to Lord Tyrion for a short while, aren’t you?” Sansa replied with a laugh.

“‘Wedded’ is one thing, your majesty. ‘Favored’ is as well. We aren’t wedded. And I’m certainly not your ‘favored’ either.”

“Says who? I happen to favor you above all others, Ser Clegane.”

“There isn’t a word for what we are, my Lady. Not a polite one at any rate. You should ask the Hand’s brother to accompany you. Ser Jaime looks right.”

“You look right,” she insisted. He scoffed again, so she continued, “I wouldn’t change a thing about you. But if you’d rather not go, I won’t force you. I’ll go alone.”

Sandor was silent for a long moment before he sighed heavily. “No, you won’t either. I’ll take you. I’ll be on my best behavior for your brother and his Hand.”

“I certainly hope not. You’ll have to save that behavior for me,” she said with a wink.


	17. "It's amazing how fast the world can go from bad to a total shit storm" for ibelieveinturtles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five Minute Fics
> 
> Other tags: Long-Distance Relationship, Skype

“It’s amazing how fast the world can go from bad to a total shit storm,” Sandor deadpanned, his face illuminated by the desk lamp in his hotel room 

Sansa sighed and propped her chin on her hand. “I mean, you’re not wrong, but… I still wish it had at least waited to fall apart until you got back to me…” 

Skype was the only thing keeping her sane, what with Sandor trapped across the planet, and a world-wide quarantine in place. He’d tried to get home, but there were no flights into the North, and all the borders had been closed. 

And she understood why. Her love affair and desire to have her boyfriend nearby was no reason to put everyone at risk if he brought the virus with him. 

“I’ll get back to you as soon as I can, Little Bird,” Sandor’s voice was low, almost a whisper, but somehow his mic picked it up. 

“I know you will,” Sansa replied, smiling. “So… tell me about your day.” 

“I’d rather hear about yours,” he countered. 

“I stayed inside and day-drank too much wine. Then, I took a long nap, and watched a True Crime documentary on Netflix.” 

Sandor sighed. “Sounds heavenly. Wish I was there.” 

“Me too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt me [here](https://forms.gle/Pgq2agHgukRcvBXh6)


	18. Don't be scared, I can explain || for Semperlitluv

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _****_ ****
> 
> **_Halloween Prompts 2020_ **
> 
> **__**
> 
> Other tags: AU - Werewolf, Werewolf Sansa Stark, Canon Era, Not Canon Compliant

“Don’t be scared, I can explain.”

Sandor’s eyes were bugging out of his head, he couldn’t decide where to look. Up at the sky, or at the miles and miles of bare leg that was standing just to the right of his head.

Bare leg that gave way to other bare things.

Beautiful, creamy skin that had only just been covered in fur.

“The fuck is going on?” he asked, scrambling to sit up and wincing as he remembered why he was lying down to begin with.

“No, don’t move,” Sansa replied, kneeling beside him and forcing him close his eyes and recite the names of the seven as she inspected his injuries. He barely felt her touch him, that’s how enthralled he was by the sight of her.

“You’re a direwolf, or I’m farther gone than I thought and you’re not here at all,” Sandor mused.

“I’m a werewolf,” she corrected him. “I can shift into a direwolf at will, except when the moon is full. Then I have no choice.”

He glanced up at the crescent moon and back to her. “Why are you here?”

“To repay a favour, ser.”

“I’m no ser,” he argued.

“A favour, nonetheless. Now, I’m going to shift and you’re going to climb on my back.”

“I’ll crush you,” he said.

“Did you see how big I was?” she countered. “You’d never crush me. I’ll take you back to Winterfell. To the maester.”

“If you want. You know… I’m probably delirious.”

She chuckled and he watched her shift into a massive direwolf, turning round and lowering herself so he could flop onto her back.

His eyes closed and the next thing he knew, he was warm in a bed and hurting like hell, but he was warm. And on the mend.

And Lady Sansa was watching over him.

It must have all been a dream.


	19. Getting warm together || for Anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _****_ ****
> 
> **_Winter Prompts 2020_ **
> 
> **__**
> 
> Other tags: Established Relationship, Fluff, Cuddling & Snuggling

It was late when Sansa finally got home from work. Sandor was about to call that asshole manager of hers and yell at him. Even though she always told him not to. That she wanted to fight her own battles.

That fucker Baelish needed a kick in the rectum from someone. He was begging for it.

But Sandor had done as she asked and simply cranked up the heat and went back to keep the bed warm for her.

When she got back to the bedroom, she surprised him, because he’d meant to go out and meet her at the door when she got home, but he hadn’t heard her arrive.

“Look, I’m from the North and everything,” she began. “But it is fucking cold out tonight and I’m done with it.”

Sandor chuckled and went to get up.

“No, don’t. I’ll come to join you, just let me change. I smell like the restaurant.”

“You do alright?” he asked, settling back in bed and watching her untie her apron and hang it on a hook inside the closet door.

“Yeah, I did. I thought I didn’t, but someone flagged me down in the parking lot to tip me a hundo that they forgot to leave on the table so yeah… I did alright.” She grinned brilliantly and pushed her trousers down her legs quickly. She unbuttoned her top and left that on the floor too, pulling on one of his long-sleeved henleys for a nightshirt and climbing up into bed with him, she slid her cold body against his side and he swore before wrapping her up in his arms.

“You’re not joking. It’s fucking cold,” he stated, grunting as she rolled over to perch on top of him, straddling his hips and curling against his chest.

“You’re so warm. You’re always so warm,” she murmured, snuggling against him.

He smiled and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close to his front.

“Do you mind if I sleep like this?” she asked.

“Not at all.”

He never minded.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts are open, prompt me [here.](https://forms.gle/ejZPceyAAj29SWtK8) (I actually have the form fixed now)


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